As usual, I retreated to my parents’ place in Worcestershire for Christmas.
When I left London last Thursday, it was bone dry. But look at what greeted me upon arrival in the West Midlands.
I had to drag a 20kg suitcase through six inches of snow. There had been no gritting at all in this part of the town, which is very undulating and made driving anywhere impossible. And Christ it was cold, too – just look at the icicles at the back of the house.
I can remember some severe, or at least very snowy, winters from my childhood, which were an excuse to go sledging and have snowball fights (then as now). But I don’t recall it ever being this bad. We appear now to be over the worst of this freakish winter, the third in a row. What price a fourth consecutive bad winter with the UK again completely underprepared for a few inches of snow?